


Something Better

by chupacabras



Series: Walking Parasites [1]
Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sappy, kinda sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 23:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chupacabras/pseuds/chupacabras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was as if all of the hope for some kind of success was sucked right out of them, when they heard the news. Parasitic. It was parasitic and it was inside all of them and it wanted to infect everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Better

It was as if all of the hope for some kind of success was sucked right out of them, when they heard the news. _Parasitic_. It was parasitic and it was inside all of them and it wanted to infect everything. It wanted to spread, to lead its host to danger and end its life and infect others. For so long now, they had assumed that all they needed to do was avoid getting bitten or scratched. Death meant destruction of the brain to prevent reanimation. Simple. They knew the rules and kept to them.

…but then the rules changed.

It lived in the brain. Festered there. After the discovery it made sense; it was the reason why Rick screamed at people who weren’t there. Lori and Shane were dead and yet they haunted him— Lori being the worst as of late. The group opened up about all of their fears— Glenn being so jumpy because he felt he was  _always being watched_  and Beth keeping to her cell because of her headaches. Hershel admitted to hearing the voice of his lost family members from time to time, but never actually seeing them. Hearts to hearts they all came clean on how they could be affected— all but Daryl. Eyes fell on him and he just shook his head and retreated up to his perch. They waited and then everyone looked at Rick, knowing the two men were closer than ever. Knowing that Rick had the answer they wanted to hear.

After a sigh and a slow nod, Rick took to looking at a stain on the prison floor as he explained that Daryl’s symptoms had been present the longest. Since they were on the farm. It amazed them— to hear that Daryl had been fighting with hallucinations this long. That he hid it so well. Rick figured that they just didn’t notice— they weren’t trained to Daryl’s cues. They didn’t know how his jaw should be set or how his eyes burned whenever the sound of his brother’s voice invaded his head. And if he knew Daryl at all,  _they_  wouldn’t know. Never fully.

The news changed how the group worked. Understanding became common. Carol seemed to always wear an apologetic gaze. Like it was her fault all of their minds weren’t stable anymore. They trudged on, though. Kept alive. Took care of Judith. Had shifts. Everything was the same as before— but with an added fear for each other. They were more protective of each other’s moods. They would try to talk Rick through some of his more troubling moments. Everyone had something new to offer. Everyone seemed stronger. 

Rick knew the signs that Daryl was having what they were calling a ‘ **bad day**.’ When it became too much— whatever it was— whoever was having one needed to rest. Rest and eat. Stay still. Be in the company of others.

Basically anything Daryl Dixon would shy away from. Unless it was Rick. Sometimes Carol’s words would help; she was really good at knowing what to say. She didn’t hesitate to tell Daryl to take things slow if he needed to.  _They all had their days_.

But Rick was the only one that got to see how it effected Daryl. The pacing. The way his gaze followed his brother nobody saw. How his expression would flinch due to yelling nobody else heard. Rick would look to him, questioning— reach out for him, hoping— but Daryl would move his head in the slightest of shakes.  _No_. Merle was his burden. An understanding nod and a promise to give Daryl space until he was ready, and Rick was gone from the perch. Nothing good could come from prying, Rick knew. Daryl may look at him with all the loyalty and love in the world, but the feelings his body couldn’t express were closely guarded. Daryl would come to him when he was good and ready. He just needed to trust his partner. To try and be patient.

His trust turned out to be worth it. After getting Judith down for the night (alone, which was strange because Daryl made it a point to be with her and at least kiss her goodnight) he’d sat on his bunk, legs over the edge and back hunched. His thoughts were mainly on their level of formula when he heard the shuffle of feet at the door. Daryl stood there, eyes on the sleeping baby for just a moment before they flickered over to Rick— and in that moment the ex-cop felt his heart almost break in his chest. Daryl looked absolutely exhausted, worse than he had after returning from hunts that were too long and too harsh. His eyes were full of question— of request and Rick nodded quicker than his heart could beat. Everything in Rick told him to reach out to him, to touch him. To hug him and not let go until Daryl understood that his feelings hadn’t changed. That everything would be fine. But he couldn’t. It was a risk; Rick had only just gotten Daryl to come to him when his heart truly ached and he was still sometimes skittish about it. One wrong word or gesture and Daryl would turn on his heels in frustration and be distant for a few days. 

A ‘ **bad day’**  for sure, with the way he moved to join Rick on the bunk, quietly settling so his head was in his lap. Rick watched in the dim lighting as eyes clenched shut as if experiencing a great pain— and because he had Daryl this close and this honest, he let his hand move. His Dixon could certainly complain about how ‘lovey-dovey’ Rick was capable of being some days, but there wasn’t anything but gratitude in his eyes when the opened again after fingers began to work. This was one of his favorite pass-times— to just pet through the other man’s hair. The smile he offered was fond, even if Daryl couldn’t return it yet. Not while Merle was screaming at him about being a faggot and running to his boyfriend like some bitch. 

“…’e’s gonna wake ‘er.” It was whispered and Rick shook his head, free hand moving to search for one of Daryl’s. The squeeze he felt was weaker than usual and for a moment he wondered how long it had been since a full night’s sleep had visited the redneck.

“You know she doesn’t like him enough to listen to a word he says. She’s tough.” The smile on his face tugged into a grin for just a second, hand moving from issuing petting motions so he could tap the other man on the nose. “Gets it from you, I think.” Talking about Judith always seemed to help bring calm— Carl, too. Anything that made them sound like some kind of family. He could feel a flutter of something in his chest when his words made Daryl give an amused huff and turn so he could bury his face into the fabric of his shirt, embarrassed.  He continued to card his fingers through dark strands in silence, waiting. For what, he wasn’t sure. He could feel Daryl’s head shake against him and he ‘ _shh_ ‘d him quietly, calming him further and trying to draw him away from his brother’s voice. 

They stayed like that for a while. Daryl toughed out the worst of Merle’s internal dialog, hand squeezing Rick’s now and again. He didn’t stop petting him. Didn’t stop whispering words of encouragement— and felt a wave of relief come when Daryl loosened his grip enough to just idly play with his fingers. To map out the wrinkles and callouses on his palm. Rick was pretty sure it wouldn’t be long before the man in his lap dozed off— but then another whisper came.

“…wanna get away from ‘ere.” He certainly sounded sleepy. “Find a house, y’know?” Rick hummed in agreement and traced the curve of Daryl’s ear with a knuckle, eager to hear more of Daryl’s words. Exhaustion had taken away his filter, apparently. “Settle down somewhere. Us an’ the kids. Carl’ll be big ‘nough t’where I can teach ‘im howda drive. F’he ends up all tall n’ like you a bike’ll be no problem…” He could hear the calm he had waited for settle in, could feel Daryl relaxing into him. Sleep was looming close. Rick was torn between hearing more of this little fantasy and having Daryl actually get some rest. His next few sentences were hard to catch— quiet and muffled against him as the battle to stay awake was slowly lost.”… put a swing up fer her.” The thumb on his palm slipped and stilled, causing such a smile to come to the surface of Rick’s features. Daryl slipped away from consciousness  but Rick continued to stroke his hair for some time, thinking about the future he’d wished for and actually shared with him.

The images danced in his head even as he carefully moved to settle down next to him, carrying on into his sleep. Two of them shared the same dream that night— one of better days and family, and when they woke the faced the days ahead of them with a new kind of strength. They had something to look forward to, to hope for. Their hearts yearned for Carl to grow up strong and for Judith to say her first words. 

They would get through each day and closer to that house with that swing. They had to.


End file.
